


Don't Think Twice, It's All Right

by orkakid



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Suicide Attempt, could be triggering??????, idk - Freeform, maybe??????, suicide note
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 05:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orkakid/pseuds/orkakid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry looked away from Louis and down at the tiles, tracing his finger over the grout.<br/>"You should'a let me kill myself." He murmured.<br/>Louis stared at Harry like he was absolutley mad; and maybe he was, he'd lost all sense of judgement a long time ago,</p><p>Or the one where Harry tries to commit suicide but can't get the damn cap off the Tylenol bottle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Note

**Author's Note:**

> this is basically my christmas gift to you since my christmas one shot isnt going to be finished by tuesday. originally posted on my tumblr, getsleazy1d

Dear Louis,

By the time you get this, I doubt I'll be here anymore. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say to make everything make sense. I guess there's nothing I can really say to make this right. I guess I'll just try to settle any doubts, explain to you why it's time for me to go.

Before I give you any reason, I want to tell you to not blame yourself. Never blame yourself. No matter what I end up saying here, don't you dare blame yourself. This is my decision and mine alone.

I've had depression for a long time. Way before I met you. But I remember the day I _did_  have the privilege of meeting you. Best day of my life. Better than anything that's ever happened to me, better than forming One Direction, better than making a number one album, better than selling out arenas, better than winning all the awards we've won. You've brought so much life into my pathetic life, I couldn't help it when I fell completely in love with you. You just made everything better. You gave me mixed signals, though. I spent al my time trying to figure out if you felt the same way about me. One day you'd be playing around with me or making me laugh or holding my hand, and the next you'd be blowing off our plans for girls you'd only just made plans with. I prayed it was just you trying to figure out your feelings, because there was nothing more I wanted than to kiss you.

But then you got Eleanor, and every last shred of hope I was still clinging to was ripped from my grasp and thrown down the toilet, and you had no idea what you'd done. I couldn't blame you for finding someone who made you happy. All I wanted was for you to be happy.

I don't know why I chose then to tell you that I was gay. I guess I just figured that you couldn't hurt me any more than you already had. Of course, I thought wrong. You told me that you'd love me no matter what, even if I had three heads and purple skin. And that shred of hope that you liked me as more than a friend was restored. So I waited for you. And I waited, and I waited, and I waited. But you never came around. You only grew more distant, frequently dropping plans, hanging up on me, ignoring my texts and calls. Whenever we spent a day together, more rumors started circulating that we were in a secret relationship, and you got to a point where you would even yell at me over the phone when I asked if you wanted to see a film or get a coffee. But I don't blame you. You were just trying to love your girlfriend in peace.

I hadn't even came out to the media yet.

But as you slowly stopped talking to me, I realized all I was doing was ruining your life. I realized you'd be better off without me constantly bothering you and ruining your relationship with Eleanor. So I made the decision to let you, and my self, go.

This is the best way I can think of going. I held off for two days to see if you'd notice me, to ask why I've stopped eating or sleeping. But you didn't say anything, which helped me make up my mind.

Tell my mum, sister, and the boys that I love them and I'm sorry to be going so early. Tell them to not blame themselves and that I'll be seeing them before they know it.

I know I'll never love another like I love you, I'll always love you, no matter where I end up going. Thank you for making my short time on Earth wonderful.

Much love,  
-Harry xx


	2. The Attempt

He was ready to go. He had the note sitting on the counter, the page of notebook paper hurridly ripped from a spiral notebook and now stained with tears. In his hand was a family-sized bottle of Tylenol PM, 250 capsels at his disposal. The bathroom door was locked and the fan was on in an attempt to drown out his ragged sobs. He glanced at his watch, which looked blurry through tears. 

12:53. He had to do it now, before anything could stop him. Was it his imagination, or was someone pounding on the door to his flat It didn't matter anymore, all that mattered was getting the cap off this bottle, but his palms were clammy and his grip kept slipping and each attempt made him more and more frustrated until he was basically screaming at the stupid bottle. 

"Open, God damnit!" He grunted, smashing the container against the tile floor. Now he was certain someone was knocking, because now it was on the bathroom door.

"Harry, what's wrong?" A voice asked through the door. The handle rattled a few times, but Harry had remembered to lock the door. 

"Harry, open the door!"

A loud sob escaped Harry's lips. He had to do it, now, but the stupid cap refused to come off. He felt hysteric. 

The pounding on the door grew louder, each thump drawing a whimper from Harry's throat. Whoever was out there was trying to bust the door down. They would catch him, take the pills away. He'd have to keep living.   
Finally, the door burst open, and standing there, his face contorted with worry, was none other than Louis. Harry looked up at Louis and made another attempt to yank the lid off.

"Th-the cap won't come off!" Harry wailed, and Louis' eyes grew wide when he realized what was happening. He dropped down, attempting to grab the bottle, but Harry held fast. 

"Harry, give me the bottle." Louis said, trying to sound calm but ultimetly failing.

"No, I can't do this anymore." Harry cried, trying to get the bottle back in his possession and get the lid off at the same time. "Let go, Louis. Let me finish myself." 

"I can't let you do this. Give me the bottle!" Louis said, trying to pull it out of Harry's grasp. 

Just then, the cap exploded off the top of the bottle, the pills spilling all over the floor.

"No!" Harry screamed, scrambling to grab them before they could roll out of his reach. "Look what you did!"   
Louis jumped at Harry, grabbing him around the waist so his arms were pinned to his sides. 

"I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" Harry chanted over and over, his voice thick and nearly inaudible. He struggled but Louis held him tightly, tears starting to run down his own face, until Harry went limp in his arms, his sobs choked and almost inhuman. 

"Why?" Louis whispered, almost uncomprehending of what he just walked in on. Harry weakly pointed at the note sitting up on the counter, still unable to speak. Louis looked up at the note, and hesitantly released his hold on Harry, who slumped to the ground, before reaching up and yanking the note down. 

It was over, Louis was going to read the note and then get up and walk out of the room. He was going to let Harry finish what he started. He was going to be so disgusted with Harry for having a crush on him, he was going to get up and leave. Maybe he'd even laugh at Harry's funeral. 

Harry watched as Louis' eyes scanned over the words, his face feeling sticky with tears and sweat and every other bodily fluid that comes with crying and attempting suicide. He probably looked a wreck right now. He was supposed to be dead, though, his apperance wasn't supposed to matter. 

Louis finally put down the note, his face a mix of shock, guilt, and pure, utter grief. 

"This is my fault." He said softly, his eyes finally locking with Harry's. 

"No, it's not," Harry tried to say, but his voice was so choked with tears it came out sounding more like "Nuuh, ehtznhut." 

"Yes, it is. I shouldn't have pushed you away... Harry... I'm such an asshole," Louis ran his hand through his hair, tears starting a steady stream down his face, "I didn't even know..." 

Harry looked away from Louis and down at the tiles, tracing his finger over the grout. 

"You should'a let me kill myself." He murmured. 

Louis stared at Harry like he was absolutley mad; and maybe he was, he'd lost all sense of judgement a long time ago; before pulling Harry up into his lap and winding his arms tight around the younger boy's torso. 

"I could never, ever let you kill yourself," Louis whispered in Harry's ear, making him shiver a bit, "You are my best friend in the whole world and-" Louis paused, swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, "Maybe some day it could be something more, I don't know, but we'll never find out if you kill yourself." 

Harry's mouth dropped open slightly at those words, his heart clenching in his chest. 

"Y-you really think so?" He stammered hopefully. Louis nodded.

"But you have to push through this. We'll push through it together."

"I love you, so much, Lou." Harry said, the lump in his throat causing his voice to break.

"I love you, too, Haz." Louis whispered back, and as Harry started crying again and Louis' arms around his waist tighetened, Harry wondered why he'd ever wanted to kill himself in the first place.


End file.
